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Unformatted text preview: even Hamilton, who was out taking a nap. Hamilton wasn't a bad guy at all. He slipped the pen in his pocket and reached out with his left hand to clasp Rowan's fingers. There was a sudden jerk. He rose up with a start. &quot;Just a reflex, Mr. Curry,&quot; said the nurse from the shadows. &quot;It happens now and then. If she was hooked to one of the machines, it would drive the needle crazy, but it doesn't mean a damned thing.&quot; He sat back, holding tight to her hand, refusing to admit it was as cool and lifeless as before. He looked at her profile. It seemed to have slipped a little to the left. But maybe that was a mistake. Or they had lifted her head for some reason, or he was just dreaming. Then he felt the fingers tighten again. &quot;There, it happened,&quot; he said. He stood up. &quot;Turn on that lamp.&quot; &quot;It's nothing, you're torturing yourself,&quot; said the nurse. She came softly to the side of the bed, and she laid her fingers on Rowan's right wrist. Then, rem...
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